


after an eternity

by rielity (snowdrops)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, IDOLiSH7 Part 4 Spoilers, M/M, Missing Scene, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/rielity
Summary: Yamato, Mitsuki and Nagi come to terms with the events leading up to their reunion.Set during and contains spoilers from Part 4, Chapter 10 to Part 4, Chapter 14.
Relationships: Izumi Mitsuki & Nikaidou Yamato, Izumi Mitsuki & Nikaidou Yamato & Rokuya Nagi, Izumi Mitsuki & Rokuya Nagi, Izumi Mitsuki/Nikaidou Yamato/Rokuya Nagi, Nikaidou Yamato & Rokuya Nagi
Kudos: 27





	after an eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pythagoras Day!
> 
> Recommended background: My Friend RabbitTV (*spoilers up to Part 4, Chapter 17), which I’ve translated [here](https://starsail.dreamwidth.org/3894.html). The RabbitTV is never directly referenced, but its contents provide context to certain parts of this story.
> 
> Dialogue translations adapted from [shionstear @ dreamwidth](https://shionstear.dreamwidth.org/).

01.

It all unfolds as though in slow motion. One moment Mitsu is standing next to him, staring out at the cluster of guards surrounding them. The next moment, Mitsu’s broken free of their small group, sprinting towards that black limousine across the street.

The action is so unexpected that Yamato doesn’t have time to react. Natsume yells something in Japanese, then something else in Northmarean. The wind is so strong that it swallows his words, but Yamato can hear Natsume’s usually calm and composed demeanour giving way to something fast approaching panic.

A cacophony of voices echo after that, all calling Mitsu’s name, but none of them dare to give chase. Someone in the lineup of guards moves, hand going to his hip. Yamato has made this action many times before: the unholstering of a gun.

All the guns he’s ever unholstered were replicas. Props. No matter how realistic they looked, they never fired, and he only pointed them at stunt actors wearing protective vests.

The gun in this Northmarean guard’s hand is real. Mitsu may be wearing three layers of clothing, but none of them will stand a chance against a metal bullet. Yamato’s blood runs colder than the blizzard they are wrapped in.

He can’t lose Mitsu. Not when he’s already lost Nagi. Not when they came here to _get Nagi back_.

“Mitsu…! _Mitsuki!_ ”

Not even the sound of his full name stops Mitsu from charging ahead. Down the line of guardsmen, more move to reach for their guns.

Amidst the dread churning in his gut and abject terror rooting him in place, some deranged part of Yamato whispers: if this were a drama, he knows how it would go. The guards will fire. Maybe Yamato would make a mad sprint towards Mitsu, throw himself in front of Mitsu. If he were a villain, that would be his final act of redemption, an apology for all the secrets he’d kept, all the sadness he’d inflicted on Mitsu. Mitsu might scream his name, the rest of the members might be frozen in horror. Maybe Nagi, watching them from afar, would come for him. They’ll have a final, dramatic exchange, as the world grinds to a painful halt and the scene turns to white.

Wouldn’t that be a cruel ending, to Mitsu and Nagi both? Some kind of apology that would be.

Funny how he, who never once would have thought of laying down his life for someone else, might go as far as to run after Mitsu right now, if he could.

But this isn’t a drama. If anything happens to Mitsu _and_ himself, who will IDOLiSH7 turn to?

A lanky figure steps out of the limousine, clad in a fitting grey suit. Pale yellow hair. Elegant even in the harshness of this storm.

Mitsu stops in his tracks. The guardsmen lower their gun. Yamato takes a deep, ragged breath past the pounding in his chest.

* * *

02.

The first thing Nagi sees when he steps out of the limousine is the blinding whiteness of a Northmarean snowstorm. The second thing he sees is the small jacket-clad figure barrelling towards him, a bright splotch of orange the only movement against the still, monotonous world.

The colour itself calls to mind too many things that he’s been trying to forget. Fond affection, boisterous laughter, exasperated retorts, the smell of freshly baked cookies, the only light streaming under the door into a dark hallway at night. All so warm and gentle, nothing like the cold harshness that Northmarea has become.

He pushes the thought out of his mind. He left those things behind in Japan, far far away from here. He won’t find them here. He needs to greet this young tourist and ensure their safety, for all the child’s recklessness.

A voice bellows. “... _Nagi_!!” Not Your Highness Nagi, but _Nagi_.

He knows this voice. It’s the voice he heard right before he stepped onto the road without looking twice, because he was trying to pull for the limited Kokona lottery. It’s the voice he heard yelling from the other side of the road in the early days of their debut, a small figure frantically waving both hands to get his attention. In front of the convenience store as he was, Nagi had waited until the small figure crossed the road to him, beaming wide when he caught up, and they’d walked back to the dorm together.

There’s a long moment of silence as the figure finally comes to a stop in front of him. His hood is thrown back and snow is dusting his hair, but his smile is as bright as ever. “...Mitsuki…” he whispers, unable to help himself. There’s an odd void in his chest, something between disbelief and despair, hope and fear.

“I knew it was you!” Mitsuki says, and there's so much joy in his voice, so much _relief_ that all Nagi can hear is his smile —

“Your Highness—” Thorvald says from behind him. Nagi hears him reaching for his gun, and the sound brings everything back into stark relief. A glance at his security troopers tells him that there are at least six guns pointed at Mitsuki, not including the one in Thorvald’s hands.

Nagi is no stranger to guns, but with them pointed at Mitsuki, it’s a struggle to keep the fear from leaking through as he orders them to stand down.

Even by Mitsuki’s standards, surely this was too reckless.

Mitsuki doesn’t even seem to be fazed by the fact that he was a trigger pull away from death.

“We came to get you,” Mitsuki says. “We’re all here in Northmarea. We came for you!”

The words sink in with disbelief. He had once dreamt that he could bring IDOLiSH7 to Northmarea one day. And the whole group is now here, and Mitsuki has put himself in mortal danger — all because of him.

_It’s all okay now_ , Mitsuki says, his voice coming as though from far, far, away. _We’ll solve everything._

Every word carves itself into his heart. It hurts, so badly that Nagi imagines it shattering into pieces. He had wished that they would give up on him while wishing deep down that they wouldn’t. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody he loves again. Even if they are here, how can they save him?

Here, he’s not IDOLiSH7’s Rokuya Nagi anymore; he’s Northmarea’s prince, Nagi Valhart von Northmarea.

He stares at Mitsuki, trying to burn the memory of Mitsuki’s face into his mind. At least allow me this, he pleads to an invisible deity. That vibrant, determined smile, the curve of his laughing eyes, cheeks pink from the cold. The unadorned happiness in his tinkling voice. It’s the last time he’ll be able to see all of this in person, so he’ll burn it into memory, file it away for his selfish indulgence.

The air is cold and thin when he speaks. _“Nice to meet you.”_

* * *

03.

It’s a frigid night, made all the colder by Riku’s absence. After Yamato and MEZZO" have left the living room, Iori brushes off Mitsuki’s offer to spend the night with him, but the line of his shoulders is stiff as he enters his and Riku’s shared room alone.

Mitsuki’s heart is heavy as he pushes open the door to Yamato and his own room, shower bag in hand. It’s been a long time since he felt this helpless. To be so close to Nagi and yet not receive any response, for that familiar face to speak in such an unfamiliar tongue, wearing such an unfamiliar expression... Mitsuki can only hope that Iori was right, that Riku being with Nagi will be their chance. If there is one thing he can be sure of in these circumstances, it is that Nagi will never let any harm come to Riku.

Between jetlag and their packed schedules, they’ve turned in early the last few nights, so it’s a surprise when he walks in to find the lights still on.

Yamato is lying on his bed, holding his phone above his face.

“You’re still up?” Mitsuki asks as he goes to put away his toiletries. “You’re going to drop your phone on your face if you keep using it like that, you know.”

There’s a non-committal hum from Yamato, then the rustle of blankets. When Mitsuki turns around, he finds Yamato sitting up, watching him.

Yamato’s been doing that ever since they parted ways from the ZOOL members. Mitsuki had sat together with Iori in the taxibus back to their hotel, and he’d felt Yamato’s gaze on him the whole ride.

“What is it, old man?” he asks, walking over to the foot of Yamato’s bed. A beat later, he sits down on the edge of it, the way that he does every time he joins Yamato for a weekend drink in his room. The beds in the hotel are softer than the ones back in the dorm, but they’re foreign to the touch and linger with coldness.

He expects the usual flippant laugh, or Yamato to say something about their encounter with Nagi earlier. He isn’t expecting the hand that comes up to his face, cupping his jaw so gently that all Mitsuki can do is freeze. Yamato has never touched him like this, as though he’s afraid Mitsuki will break.

“Weren’t you afraid?” Yamato asks.

Yamato’s hand is trembling. Mitsuki’s mind whites out. “...Of Nagi?”

“They could have shot you, Mitsu,” Yamato says, hand falling away from Mitsuki’s face. “Do you know how many guns there were?”

“...No.”

“Six, Mitsu.”

Mitsuki’s throat goes dry. He hadn’t known that there were so many. All he’d known was a deep sinking certainty that if he didn’t get to see Nagi then, he might never get to again.

“...I was _terrified_ ,” Yamato confesses, and it’s the tremulous honesty in his voice that leaves Mitsuki at a loss for words. He’s never heard Yamato like this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, after a long drawn-out silence. “I didn’t… I didn’t think, I guess. There wasn’t time to be afraid. I couldn’t let him go again, not without telling him we’re fighting for him.”

He lifts his eyes to Yamato’s face, afraid of what he’ll find. Handsome features twist, then Yamato buries his head against Mitsuki’s shoulder. “That’s just like you, Mitsu,” he mutters with a choked laugh, the words shuddering against Mitsuki’s chest. “All I could think of… was that I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you too.”

“Yamato-san…” It’s feeling harder to breathe, the weight of the day’s events suddenly crashing onto Mitsuki, squeezing all the air out of his lungs. Hesitantly, he reaches up to put his arms around Yamato. The action is foreign, not in itself but for the recipient. Nagi was always the one dragging them into hugs, never himself or Yamato, and his absence is even more pronounced with the movement. When they get Nagi back, Mitsuki vows to never deny him a hug ever again.

“I’m okay, Yamato-san,” he murmurs, blinking through the burning in his eyes. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay.”

Deep in his heart, he prays that they will be.

* * *

04.

They're still on thin ice, but Nagi will gladly seize any leeway his brother offers. There are many conversations he still needs to have — with Haruki, with Natsume, with Thorvald — but now that he's seen Haruki with his own eyes, his heart is a little more at peace.

Two nights before the ceremony, he finally manages to catch a break from his duties. It’s already late, so he opts against disturbing Haruki’s rest, choosing instead to visit his members at the suite they're staying in.

In his short time away from the Palace, Thorvald seems to have gotten close to them; he is presently in the living room, being interrogated by Riku and Tamaki about Northmarea's delicacies. Either way, Nagi doesn't get to dwell on it, because Mitsuki and Yamato immediately drag him into their shared room, saying they have _grown-up things_ to talk about.

There's silence for a long time once the door is shut behind them, none of them seeming to know what to say. Mitsuki moves first, sitting down on the huge bed in the middle of the room and tugging at Nagi and Yamato to settle down next to him. Upon closer observation Nagi realises that the bed is two single beds pushed together, a mass of blankets strewn over them. Something about the sight makes Nagi's throat clench. That they, two of his strongest and proudest members, should have felt so lonely that they set aside their pride to sleep like this.

"I thought I would have lots of things to say once you got here," Mitsuki says at last with a strangled laugh. "But now that you're here it's as though everything's flown out of my head."

"The same for onii-san," Yamato says.

"I'm sorry," Nagi says, bowing to both of them.

Mitsuki's eyes are already red. "Don't apologise, Nagi, it's not your fault you got brought back here—"

"I'm saying sorry because I thought you would hate me for what I did," Nagi says, looking down at the ground.

Instead, they had come all the way to save him.

"As if we could hate you for something clearly out of your control," Yamato says, forcing a grin. "We all knew you would be the last one to abandon us."

"You'll make me cry, Yamato," Nagi tries to smile, but the tears are already hot against his cheeks.

"Hey, don't cry, I'm going to cry too," Mitsuki chokes out, voice watery.

There's only an answering sniffle from Yamato, so Nagi reaches out and tugs them both towards himself. Back in the dorms before any of this happened, they would have squirmed out of his reach. Here, there isn't the slightest bit of resistance.

Here in his arms, he has the two members he'd thought about the most. He'd missed all of them, but his unit mates most of all.

Distrustful Yamato, entrusting his unspeaking self with Riku's safety even after being left behind without any explanation. Mitsuki's confident smile, promising him they would make it all better, even when Nagi couldn't say anything in answer. Mitsuki, going as far as to talk to his brother and persuading him into this truce they had arrived at. Mitsuki, singing his parts on the demo tape, his voice like the first rays of sunshine piercing through the gloomy clouds on a cold winter day.

A memory flashes in his mind of Mitsuki standing in the snow, his back to the many guns pointed towards him, and Nagi stiffens.

"Mitsuki," Nagi says, to the small bundle currently sobbing into his chest. "Please never do that again."

Mitsuki pulls away to look up at Nagi with teary eyes, the movement nudging Yamato out of his position. "Do wh— Oh," he says, when Yamato gives him a pointed look.

They must have talked about this already.

"What would I have done if something happened to you, Mitsuki?"

Some of the fire he'd so dearly missed returns to Mitsuki's eyes at the question. "I'm sorry for scaring you, but I’ll stand before any number of guns as many times as I need to keep you safe."

"Why does this sound scripted, Mitsu?" Yamato says through loud sniffles.

"I knew he would tell me off for it," Mitsuki smiles, and— oh, crying or not, Mitsuki really is like a tiny sun in Nagi's arms. "Just like you did, old man."

There is nobody in this world who is more terrifying than Izumi Mitsuki on a mission, Nagi decides.

"I won't give you any reason to do that ever again," he promises, and pulls them both back into a tight hug once more.

**Author's Note:**

> title from [30, june 2020](http://31-days.dreamwidth.org/3549661.html#cutid1).  
> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/rielavity)


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